


Bad Times

by Nanyoky



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: 1960s, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1960s, Bad Times At the El Royale AU, Bank Robbery, Blood and Violence, Canonical Character Death, Cults, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Dubious Morality, Ensemble Cast, F/M, Gen, Hotels, Kidnapping, Minor Keyleth/Vax'ildan (Critical Role), POV Alternating, Past Relationship(s), Period Typical Attitudes, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Relationship, Robbery, Thriller, Veterans, Vietnam War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:01:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27855574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nanyoky/pseuds/Nanyoky
Summary: At a seedy motel on the border between Nevada and California, a group of strangers converge, not a single one who they first appear to be.A Vox Machina AU of the movie Bad Times at the El Royale.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Saundor/Vex'ahlia (Critical Role), Scanlan Shorthalt & Pike Trickfoot, Vax'ildan & Vex'ahlia (Critical Role)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	Bad Times

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EssayOfThoughts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EssayOfThoughts/gifts).



> So this summer, Aich was all "you should watch Bad Times at the El Royale and write a Vox Machina AU cuz you love highly specific historical Americana AUs" and I was all "that sounds like a fun quick thriller au that I can knock out in a few weeks at like 3000 words" LIKE A CHUMP. So this got a little bit away from me. That movie has a great soundtrack, editing/cinematography and premise, but I was a bit let down by the ending so things deviate a bit in this story.  
> Probably hard to follow if you have not seen the movie.

Pike put the Chevy into park and took a deep breath. She hadn’t even been driving that long, but the further into Nevada she got—the closer to Las Vegas—the more expensive the rooms would get. And she was already on her last twenty. She rested her forehead on the steering wheel for a few breaths, in and out, in and out. She was sick of this. The driving from one gig to another, living out of her samsonite travel case and trunk. She wouldn’t go back to what came before for all the money in the world, but everything since she came back to the states had felt futile, insignificant.

At last, she got out of the car and started to unload her things from the trunk. Managing to grasp her rolled up foams in one hand and her suitcase in the other, she paused. A man in all black was standing before the doors of the motel, staring at each room.

“You alright there, Father?”

He turned, and the collar around his neck proved her guess right. His expression lifted from one of confusion to an affable smile.

“Well hi there, Miss!” He removed his hat and held it to his chest. “I’m quite alright. Just admiring the facilities. Might I help you with your things?”

“I’d appreciate that, Father. Thank you.”

He took her suitcase and one of the foam rolls before gesturing her toward the door. She followed the red line that split the lot and sidewalk in half, her mustard kitten heels clacking as she stepped heel to toe like she was on a tightrope on the line between California and Nevada.

“Forgive me.” The priest managed to hold the door for her. “I seem to have forgotten my manners. “I am Father Reynolds of St. Patrick’s Church in Salem, Oregon.”

“Nice to meet you, Father. I’m Pike. Pike Trickfoot.”

“Charmed, Miss Trickfoot.”

Pike smiled, then nearly tripped on a stack of luggage in a gaudy red lizard skin pattern.

“What on earth…”

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t kick my accoutrement.”

They both searched around the lobby frowning before finding where the drawl had come from. A tall man in an ugly plaid suit to match the luggage stood up from behind the counter of a bar to one side of the space, a bland, affable smile on his face.

“Been waitin on the bell hop for well near an hour, I swear to you.” The man rounded the bar with an air of confidence bordering on pomposity. “T.B. Dracno. Sales- in vacuums, if it interests you. But right now, I’m considering applying here, as they seem in desperate need of competent staff.”

~

Percy was barely managing to keep it together through his spiel. The motel was all but empty- even quieter than usual. He’d been expecting the crushing silence of the night to push him to distraction. He’d started using more and earlier in the day than usual in anticipation of a terrifyingly still sundown. Instead he had to keep his head on straight for at least a few minutes to check in a small stream of guests. He managed to fumble through a few questions on the rooms, feeling every bead of sweat on his face.

“What’s the difference between the rooms?”

There was none. Percy rattle off the prescribed response and took the priest’s payment before handing him the key, then the black woman with the bouffant. The pair left, and the blustering salesman in the ugly suit looked about to approach before a scream of tires gave them both pause. They both turned to the windows, frowning at the black Riviera roaring down the drive and sliding at a sloppy diagonal into a parking spot.

Percy flinched, the screaming of the wheels and the slam of the car door cutting through his high and making him feel nauseous. The wallpaper was starting to drip and he was sure he was breathing in a fine mist of blood. He muffled a violent cough in his sleeve and prayed he wouldn’t be sick. When he looked up again, the door had opened once more.

A thin man in flares, a fringed suede jacket and dark glasses that hid most of his expression stepped in. He jerked his head around to scan the room before pausing on facing the salesman, who scoffed and extended a sarcastic hand toward Percy at the counter.

“No, no. By all means, be my fuckin guest.”

Not waiting to be told twice, the man crossed in a few long strides and slapped his keys down on the counter.

“Welcome to the El-“

“Need a room.”

Accustomed to being interrupted by guests, Percy moved the guest book off of the room map and indicated either wing of the motel. The man dug in a back pocket until he’d retrieved a half-crushed pack of cigarettes and biting one out of the pack before returning it to his pocket.

“You are welcome to pick a room in either wing, aside from those marked in red that are currently occu-“

The man flicked long black hair out of his face and lit the cigarette before tapping room #7 on the Nevada side.

“How much?”

“It’s twelve dollars a night fo-“

A wad of crumpled bills. “Keep the change.”

“Thank you-“ Percy’s tongue wasn’t moving fast enough to stall the abrupt hippie. “Ah- Excuse me. I have to insist that you sign our guestbook, sir.”

The man paused a moment, and Percy thought he might refuse. He snatched up the pen and hastily scribbled in the book, but not before letting out a lungful of smoke straight into Percy’s face. He tried not to cough, but failed, and by the time he’d recovered from the fit, the hippie was halfway out the door.

“You have a nice day now.” The salesman huffed at the hippie’s back, earning a lazy middle finger over the suede-clad shoulder. At last, the crass salesman crossed to sign in, and snorted on taking a glance at the guestbook. “Nice.”

Percy tilted his head to read, even though it made his head spin.

_Fuck You_

~

Tiberius stripped the room in under an hour. Once he was sure he’d found every bug in the place, he frowned down at the line of microphones and receivers. There was a lot. Far more than there should be in a mediocre motel. That wasn’t a surprise. He’d read the file on the establishment front to back, then back to front just to be sure. The strange part was that he seemed to be missing two receivers.

He scanned the room, trying to think of a single place he hadn’t checked. At last, he examined the frame of the mirror again and frowned.

He ran his fingers over the frame, trying to find purchase enough to lift it from the wall. But the heavy piece was rigidly mounted. Probing further, Tiberius frowned as he tapped the surface of the mirror with one hand and the wall with the other. He blinked, an idea forming in his head.

He measured the length of the room, and then did the same on the outside. As he suspected, there was nearly six feet unaccounted for. He found the lobby empty and silent once more. Seeing the “staff only” door behind the counter slightly ajar, he helped himself to a ring of service keys under the register. He slipped inside after clearing his corners, finding a small break room where the bellhop was slumped in an overstuffed armchair, chin on his chest, needle in his arm. Hardly a surprise, based on his earlier demeanor and blown pupils.

Careful to be quiet, Tiberius moved past this door and opened another marked “Danger: Maintenance Tech Only.” He’d already been forming his guess of what might be hidden in the back hall, but that didn’t make it any less eerie to find. There was a window into each room, all the way down. He wandered past his own room, then an empty pair, before blinking at the view offered by the two-way mirror into the fourth. The “priest”—and Tiberius had already had his doubts about that—had not only moved all the furniture to one side of the room, but rolled back the carpet and was currently in the process of prizing up floorboards. Tiberius watched for only a moment for moving on.

The short woman with the platinum beehive was next. She was pacing back and forth, chewing her lip. He watched as she checked her watch, then bent down to pull a metronome from her bag. She set it ticking and paced a little longer until her steps matched the beats she had set. As she opened her mouth and began to sing, Tiberius looked around until he found a small switch at the bottom of the two-way mirror. Out of idle curiosity, he flicked it and jumped as the room’s accompanying speaker crackled to life.

_“Each time you come around, letting me down-“_

Despite her diminutive frame, it seemed the woman had a voice twice the size of most cathedrals. Somewhat uneasy with the hauntingly beautiful voice echoing through the dingy hall, he flicked the speaker off and continued on his way.

Last was the ill-tempered hippie. Probably the least suspicious of the hotel’s occupants, Tiberius thought. At least he did, until he saw the lanky man drag the limp body of a young woman into the room and begin to tie her to a chair.

~

Scanlan listened to the singing drifting through the wall for near five minutes, smiling. The woman had a beautiful voice. He almost forgot the fierce frustration and disappointment of finding the crawlspace below his room completely empty. He climbed out of the hole he’d made in the floor and couldn’t help but sway a little as he set aside his tools. As he washed his hands and combed his hair once more, he found himself humming, then singing along to the popular tune.

“This old heart of mine…” He shrugged his jacket back on, hesitated, then returned to the bathroom to dab a bit of cologne on his neck. It couldn’t hurt after all. It was probably some kind of blasphemy to move your priest’s collar aside to add cologne so you could charm a pretty lady. But that was neither here nor there.

Outside in the greying evening light, he gave the #5 door a jaunty rap. The singing inside cut off abruptly. A pause, then the shuffle of the chain and the door opened a few inches.

“I’m sorry. I was being too loud, wasn’t I?”

“Oh, no. Quite the contrary. You have a beautiful voice, Pike.”

A small smile. “Thank you.”

I was just going to see about getting something to eat and was wondering if you’d like to join me?” When she hesitated, he offered his most disarming smile. “My treat. As payment for the song.”

She thought this over, a moment of suspicion behind her wide brown eyes. But after another moment, she nodded, smile widening.

“Sure.”

No one came when they rang the bell, but Scanlan was sure neither of them really expected anything. Seeing a wall of rotating vended dinners, he dug in his pockets until he found a few quarters.

“Why don’t you pick us out some music and I’ll see about those sandwiches?”

Pike smiled and took the coin he offered her. Five minutes later, they were at a small table, picking at stale pie while more Eisley Brothers played on the jukebox.

“We have an alright choir at my church.” He waved his forkful of cherry pie. “Though I think you’ve spoiled me now. It’ll be hard to go back now that you’ve raised my standards.”

Pike ducked her head as she laughed. “That’s how I got my start, actually. My first solo was ‘Nearer My God to Thee.’ It’s still one of my favorite songs. If I could pay the bills singin gospel, I would. But getting paid might take the grace outta it.”

“Amen to that.”

They both laughed comfortably and continued to eat.

“What about you, Father?”

“Hm?”

She smiled and he swore there were stars in her eyes. “Well, I’m on the road from one cheap singing engagement to another. What brings a priest to the El Royale?”

Oh. That’s right. He was a priest. Priests likely had little to no business thinking strange women they met in cheap motels had stars in their anything.

“I was going to visit a friend out in New Mexico.” He decided on a vague approximation of the truth. “But now I’m not sure. I think I may be upset with him.”

She giggled. “My, my, Father. What about forgiveness?”

“All in its own time.” He chanced a clumsy sign of the cross and was rewarded with another giggle. “I think I’m going to have a nightcap before turning in. Could I tempt you?”

“Oh no, I’m fine thanks.”

“Are you sure?” He wasn’t good at this. Being persistent without arousing suspicion. Especially in his current guise. It was a very delicate balance he had to pull off. “Come on now. I insist.”

Her expression flickered, and for a moment, Scanlan thought he was made. But her warm smile returned in a flash and she nodded.

“Well, if you insist.”

They both got up as the set of songs she had chosen ended, him heading for the bar, her to the jukebox once more. The new set started just as Scanlan crushed up the sleeping pills and mixed them in with a tumbler of rum. He was just about to turn and comment on the new music choice when lights popped before his eyes and the world went dark.

~

Percy might have slept in his armchair all night, except for the sound of breaking glass and a loud thud. He was fairly sure it was either his trip or a dream, but he got up anyway, dropping the syringe he’d left in his arm and pulling down his sleeve. The fluorescents buzzed and swam around his vision and he had to pause to spit up a small mouthful of bile in the sink. He took a few breaths and rinsed his mouth before stumbling out into the hall.

At first glance, the lobby appeared still and empty. Percy didn’t see anything amiss behind the front desk. But across the way in front of the bar, there was a figure in all black sprawled across the floor.

“Father Reynolds!” He rushed to the man’s side, trying to ignore how each footstep made his whole body vibrate and threaten to fall apart. He knelt down to shake his shoulder. “Father?”

The priest groaned and looked at him in confusion. “I’m not your father.”

“No- Father-“ Percy tried to gently guide him back down to the carpet. There was blood seeping from a nasty wound on his hairline, just above the left ear. “Be still a moment, you’ve got glass in your face.”

But Father Reynolds batted him away, looking around in confusion. “Where-“

“Did someone do this to you?” Percy had to sit down to keep the room from tilting, but his adrenaline was keeping him focused on the situation at hand.

“What—“ his gaze was clearing, but he still looked feverish— “no, no. I was alone, I just… fell down.”

Percy highly doubted this. He was fairly sure the priest looked in worse shape than himself, which was saying something. Father Reynolds pushed him off and got unsteadily to his feet.

“What was your name again?”

“Percy.”

“Percy…” the priest stumbled toward a table near the wall and fell heavily into one of the seats. “You wouldn’t mind getting me a drink, would you?”

“I- I really don’t think that’s such a good idea, Father.” Pot calling the kettle black.

“Oh come on, Percy.” Father Reynolds touched his temple and winced. “I fell over. Shit happens. Get the whiskey.”

Against better judgement, Percy obeyed, leaving the bottle behind the bar to return to the priest’s side. He’d splashed a good amount of whiskey onto his own hand and the smell was making him feel sick again. Father Reynolds took the glass and barely acknowledged him before knocking the drink back.

“Father Reynolds…” Percy swallowed. He was just starting to feel the crest of the come down and his tongue felt like sandpaper in his mouth. “I… I was hoping I could talk with you.”

“Yeah?”

Percy tried swallowing again and wished he’d gotten a drink for himself. “I’m not a religious man. I haven’t been to church since I was seventeen and I lost my family. But…” His hands were shaking. He’d never get through saying it at this rate. God he wished he wasn’t coming down so hard. That was likely the weakness forcing him to do this in the first place. “I- I feel compelled to confess.”

Father Reynolds looked up at him, brows drawn together and a drip of whiskey hanging on the edge of his unshaven lip.

“Not now, kid.”

Percy’s stomach dropped. “Oh… yes. Of course.”

Obviously, it was a bad time. Percy knew that. He tried not to take this as the rejection it felt like. Tried to fight the wild urge to laugh hysterically that even now, even here, he was being rejected by God himself.

“It’s just-“ he couldn’t have stopped if he tried. “I’ve done things. Things I’m not- things _no_ one could be proud of. And I just need… I need to…”

“If you are truly repentant—“ Father Reynolds swayed his hand through a loose sign of the cross—“Then you are forgiven.”

Percy swallowed, somehow feeling even worse.

~

_It was three years ago when they left their father’s sickeningly antebellum mansion in Alabama. They couch surfed and slept rough, working cash jobs to rent a room now and then, but never for long. Two years of that until Vax was doing 30 days for shoplifting and she was left on her own to wander the beaches of southern California. That was where Saundor found her._

_“Howdy.” He approached at an ambling pace through the sand. “I like your boots.”_

_“Thanks.” Vex couldn’t see all of him with the sun directly behind his shoulder, but she liked what she could make out. She leaned back on her hands to show off the full length of her figure. “They’re my brother’s.”_

_“They don’t look like your brothers. They look like yours.”_

_Vex grinned. “He’ll take’m back. He always does when he comes back.”_

_“Well, where’s he off to right now?”_

_“County.”_

_“Ah.” He nodded slowly, but didn’t seem surprised or put off, which was more than she could say for most people. “That why you’re so lonely?”_

_Vex blinked, then scoffed. “I ain’t lonely.”_

_The stranger—Saundor, she later learned; she still didn’t know his last name and it didn’t ever seem to matter—shrugged off the shirt he’d already been wearing open to the breeze._

_“Well, Boots, I am. Come for a swim with me?”_

_“It’s Vex.” She watched, bemused but appreciative as he dropped his worn blue jeans before wading into the surf._

_“I like Boots. It suits you.”_

_That was all it took, really. The rest was a whirlwind she remembered in a haze of acid and sunshine, weed and sweat, whiskey and blood. All she knew for certain was that no one on earth made her feel the way Saundor did. When he talked, people listened- herself included. Even Vax couldn’t look at him with his characteristic irreverence. At first, at least. He’d understood how incredible Saundor was at first. But lately…_

Vex came to consciousness slumped over in a chair, in a room she didn’t recognize. They weren’t on the ranch. She winced as she sat up straighter, head pounding as her surroundings came into sharper focus.

“Vax…” There was something stuffed in her mouth and when she tried to move her hands, found something tight around her wrists. As she tried to pull herself free, there was a shuffling across the room from her.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Vax came into focus before her, looking ashen, but more or less alright. “It’s okay, Vex. I’m going to take this out of your mouth, but you have to be quiet, okay?”

Slowly, Vex nodded and he pulled the strip of fabric out of her mouth.

“Vax…” her voice crackled and rasped, her throat too dry for any action at all. “What the fuck did you do?”

~

Washington demanded no one leave. That was the easy part. It only took a few minutes for Tiberius to disable the engines on each car in the lot. The harder part was the second order after his check in call. The hard part was being told not to interfere with the kidnapping. He was a good agent. The Bureau trusted Agent Stormwind and he’d never done anything to betray that trust. But he’d never wanted to disobey an order half as badly as the order not to interfere with the kidnapping. He couldn’t get the girl’s limp body, dirty dress and bare feet out of his head. It was his job to protect the citizens of the nation. That meant the greater over the few. It’s just that he didn’t usually have to watch as the few were dragged unconscious into a motel room and lashed to a chair.

Alone in his own room, he took a few steadying breaths as he paced a circuit around the small space. Fuck the Bureau. The girl needed help, and she was going to get it.

~

“Father it can’t wait.”

Scanlan looked across the table at the young bell hop, his patience for the situation wearing thin. His head was pounding, the room’s crawlspace had been empty, and his second chance had broken a bottle of tacky bourbon over his head. Now was not the best time to drum up a believable performance of a vessel for God’s grace.

“My son, I’m afraid I’m tired and would like to-“

“I-“ the young man swallowed hard as he got to his feet, hands fidgeting with the edge of his shirt. “I need to show you something.”

Scanlan frowned, watching as Percy crossed to the door behind the desk and waited expectantly for him to follow. He considered refusing. Following twitchy strangers down dark halls didn’t seem like the best idea and considering the least intimidating person he’d ever met had just recently knocked his block almost clean off, he should probably be more cautious. But part of him was curious. And Scanlan had certainly done dumber things for worse reasons.

He followed Percy down the maintenance hall to a door in the back corner.

“What-“

“I told you-“ Percy’s voice was much calmer. “I’ve done bad things, Father Reynolds.”

~

Keyleth chewed her lip as she peeled potatoes and shelled peas. She kept glancing at the phone as if it might have jumped off the hook while she wasn’t looking.

“I think we’re set for the month on those…” her father said gently as he came down the stairs and bent to kiss her head. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, I’m just-“ she waved a hand at the bowls of prepped produce. “Staying busy.”

“I’ll say.” He paused. “When were your friends going to get here?”

“Sometime tomorrow, probably.” She sighed and stared at the phone, chin in her hand. “He- they said they’d call once they got to a hotel. They were just going to head as far from Sacramento as they could by nightfall.”

He hummed. “Maybe they went a few hours longer to get off the main roads.”

She forced a small smile and nodded but doubted it. She’d met Vax when he’d gotten lost off the main roads.

_“You lost?”_

_The man with the interstate map spread out over the hood of his car looked up, brushing his long, black hair out of his face. He smiled at her, but she could tell he was deciding whether or not to answer honestly._

_“Bad sense of direction.”_

_“Where are you goin? I know the area.”_

_“Uh- tryin to get_ out _of the area, actually.”_

_Keyleth crossed the sidewalk outside the hardware store to peer down at the map. There was a small pile of cigarette butts next to the man’s boot, testament to how long he’d been staring at the map in frustration._

_“You just got off the highway for gas?” he hummed in assent. “How did you get so far off the beaten path?”_

_“Like I said, no sense of direction.”_

_She smiled and showed him where he’d found himself and how to get back to the interstate. As she explained the route, she traced it with the pencil she kept behind her ear._

_“Well, thanks. Really saved my ass.” He pushed his dark glasses up into his hair and offered a sideways smile. Which she returned for lack of knowing what else to do about the stupid little clenching feeling in her stomach. “Listen- I’m starving. Can I get you a burger? As thanks for the help, of course.”_

_“Oh-“ Keyleth hoped he’d attribute her flush to the hot sun beating down on them. “I don’t know…”_

_He nodded, his expression dropping a little into a tighter smile. The forced smile didn’t suit him half as well as the honest one. Not a quarter. She couldn’t help but notice him tug at the sleeve of his tee shirt, pulling it to cover more of the black ink on his arm._

_“Of course. Well, thanks anyway…?”_

_“Keyleth.” She shook the hand he offered._

_“Vax.”_

_He gave her one last friendly nod as he folded his map before tossing it into the driver’s window of his Riviera and ambling across the street toward the café._

_“Wait-“ Keyleth caught up to him in just a moment, linking her arm in his. “You don’t know what’s good at Mabel’s. If I don’t help, you might order the chowder or something.”_

_Vax grinned and she thought the wide, honest smile brightened up his face into looking almost boyish._

_They talked as they ate and stayed at the squeaking booth table for longer than Keyleth had intended to originally. It was fun talking to Vax. He’d been all across the south and most of the west. After a time, he admit he was driving back to California because he’d been caught stealing, and there was a warrant out for him in his home town back in Alabama, where he’d then spent a handful of months in the local jailhouse. Keyleth hardly blinked, though he looked somewhat anxious to tell her. She’d met people who had been to prison for worse than stealing a car to run away from home and then lifting groceries and cigarettes from a gas station._

_He laughed at her stories of all the animals she cared for on the property and asked about her family and what it was like coming up an only child. He even listened in amused fascination as she described what the community was like. Many didn’t seem so interested. In her experience, even those in town who knew those who lived where she did met them with open suspicion, if not outright hostility._

_“No shit…” he leaned back, shaking his head with a laugh. “That’s a coincidence.” When she only raised her eyebrows at him as she took a sip of her Coke, he explained. “It’s just funny. I’m headed for a place like that, actually. My sister joined up with this group in California while I was inside.” He snapped his fingers as he tried to remember. “Some beatnik bullshit… Echo… Echo Heart? Out north of Sac.”_

_Keyleth felt the smile slip off her face. “Oh…”_

_She didn’t know anyone who had left Echo Heart. But she’d heard of it, second or third hand. It had to be a recent group. But from the sound of it, it wasn’t much better than the ranches and farms some of the people at Vesper Hills were running from._

_“Um… Vax? Can I ask you to do something?”_

_He frowned, but leaned back in his seat, balling up his napkin. “Shoot.”_

_“Just… be careful, okay? I know it sounds kinda silly, but places like that…” Keyleth pressed her lips together, trying to choose her words carefully. “They can be kind of dangerous.”_

_“Now just hang on a minute-“ he crossed his arms and raised a brow, clearly amused. “You just spent twenty minutes tellin me all about how great it is growin up and livin in that kind of place.”_

_She frowned, shaking her head._

_“No- we’re not like- we’re different.”_

_“Everybody in the cell block thinks they’re the only one who don’t deserve to be locked up with a bunch of lowlifes.” When she only made a face, he shook his head and explained. “Everybody thinks they’re different- that they’re the exception to the rule. And anyway- say you’re right. I can take a couple hippies. I’m tougher than I look.”_

_Keyleth tried to decide if she was more embarrassed at the idea that she’d overstepped or that her face had heated up again when he winked at her._

_“Well, it might be fine, but here-“ she pulled the pencil from behind her ear and wrote her name and phone number on a napkin. “Will you take this? So if things are bad, you have somewhere to call.”_

_He took the napkin, still looking amused, but nodding. It made Keyleth feel better, even if he thought she was crazy. She just hoped she hadn’t soured him to her too much and spoiled the whole interaction._

_“This isn’t just a sneaky way of makin sure I get your phone number, is it?”_

_Keyleth bit the inside of her mouth and couldn’t stop her lips from twisting into a smile of relief. “Well maybe I’m hoping so. Hopefully when you call, it’ll be because you’re in Utah again. We don’t got much out here, but I can show you where all the cool kids smoke grass.”_

_Vax laughed and she couldn’t help but think that it made him even more handsome than his smile, which was pretty impressive, if anyone asked._

_“Yes, Ma’am. It’s a date.”_

It was almost three months later that her father called her into the house to answer a phone call from a voice he said he didn’t recognize.

“Hello?”

“Uh- Hey, Keyleth. This is Vax, the bad navigator from awhile back.”

A smile spread, unbidden, across her face. “Hi, Vax! You in the area again?”

“Uh… no.”

Her heart dropped at the sound of him taking a shaky breath on the other end of the line.

“You- you were right. This place is all kinds of bad.”

~

It was starting to rain as Pike sprinted out the doors toward her car. Typical. She dropped into the driver’s seat and jammed her key in the ignition. She’d lose all her things, abandoning them here, but that was that. Sometimes you had to cut your losses to protect yourself. She’d learned that particular lesson plenty in her life.

“Come on…” she growled as the engine struggled to turn over. “You gotta be kidding me…”

With a shriek of frustration, she slapped her palms against the wheel. Just her fucking luck. She shoved her purse firmly under the seat before stepping out into the rain and tossing up the hood to try to find the problem. For better or for worse, it didn’t take long.

“Fuck!”

Slamming the hood, she dropped to check under the car on the off chance the missing engine piece had simply dropped out onto the ground. Finding nothing, she took her purse out of the car and darted back to a line of bushes just under the motel’s awning. She kept low, trying to see through the rain if anyone was outside the building. Lucky she had chosen to keep out of sight, as the moment she started to move closer to the Nevada wing at a crouch, the first room’s door opened and the salesman strode out. Pike froze, all but holding her breath as he stepped down the walkway, checking over his shoulder now and then. She was sure he’d seen her for a moment, but he continued on, a hand inside his jacket. Pike watched him as he stopped at the last room in the wing and rapped on the door. What in hell was he doing? Pike was just far enough away that the words he called through the door were indistinct. She couldn’t move close enough to hear without risking being seen. Even if the man was innocently out of his room to socialize, she didn’t feel like talking too much to anyone at all right now.

But she watched in morbid fascination as the man kicked in the door, unable to move closer or further away, frozen in confusion and fear. Until the unmistakable sound of a gunshot tore through the air, sending her thousands of miles away and several years back all at once.

~

“Oh my God…” Percy didn’t realize he was clenching his fists until his nails bit into his palms. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the two-way mirror into room #7. “Is she-“

There was a girl tied to a chair in room #7. He could hardly get his mind to move past that. Her dress looked dirty and damp and her hair hung tangled and oily around her face where her chin rested on her chest.

“What the fuck…” the priest sounded hoarse as he stared into the room. “What is going on here…”

“We have to help her.”

There was the rude hippie man in the room as well. He sat on one of the beds on the phone, a half full ashtray next to the receiver. Percy reached out a shaking hand and turned on the speaker.

“Yeah- Yeah it’s good to hear you.” His voice was low, tired sounding. Almost too soft to hear through the speaker if not for the mic inside the phone itself. “Stopped for the night at the ah-“ he checked the notepad next to the phone. “The El Royale. Border of Nevada. Leaving was…” he ran a hand through his long, black hair. “It was bad. I just… I can’t wait to get us somewhere safe.”

“What the hell is he talking about?” Father Reynolds was standing against the back wall, as if trying to distance himself from the scene before him. “Who are they?”

“I don’t know.” Percy’s mouth barely moved as he muttered a reply, eyes still fixed on the girl in the chair. “He didn’t tell me a name or sign in at all… Father- we have to help her.”

The man in the room hung up the phone and buried his face in his hands.

“Hey jackass- I’m thirsty.”

The voice must have come from the figure in the chair. The hippie hummed in assent and disappeared into the bathroom as the girl’s head lifted, just enough to look around the room. Her hands flexed, still bound to the arms of the chair.

“Here-“

The man was back, kneeling in front of her and brushing her hair back. Percy watched in fascination as her face was revealed. They were almost identical in profile, though the captive woman was more ashen, her eyes bleary and dull as she focused on the man in front of her. The same long nose, high cheekbones, olive complexion and almond eyes. Percy thought he could even see matching birthmarks just under their sharp jaws.

“Mind telling me why you tied me up?” The young woman asked when the glass had been emptied by the man helping her drink.

“I was pretty sure you’d be pissed when you woke up and came down.”

“And you thought tyin me to a chair would fix that?”

Percy slowly shook his head as he watched. There had to be something they could do for the girl. He was about to turn and run to the parking lot so he could break down the door. Just when he’d solidified the plan, there was a knock at the door.

“Oh Christ, what now…”

The hippie straightened up and reached into his pocket, palming something too small to see from their vantage point. But from the way he was holding it, Percy would bet money on a switchblade. The man checked the peephole and called through the door.

“What do you want?”

“Ah- good evening, sir!” The overbearing salesman. “I wondered if I might have a moment of your time. Would you mind opening the door?”

A brief pause.

“No, I’m not gunna do that.”

“Listen- it’s comin down in buckets and some of the rooms lost power. That nervous fellow at the desk asked me to help check on ever-“

“Power’s fine.”

Another pause.

“Listen, I also wanted to apologize for bein so short with you earlier. I was most impolite and would like to say I’m sorry and let you know if there’s anything at all you need-“

“Ain’t interested, but flattered.” There was a click and Percy’s suspicions were confirmed as the hippie adjusted his grip on the blade in his hand. “Now. Fuck. Off.”

“Well… alright. Again, I’m real, real sorry.”

There was a few moments of silence before, with a deafening crash, the door burst open, hitting the man square in the face and knocking him to the floor. The salesman rushed into the room, gun drawn. He spared a glance for the hippie, who seemed either knocked unconscious or too stunned to be a threat, before crossing to the girl in the chair.

“Hey- you alright?” He set down his pistol on the floor and began to untie her bonds. “I’m going to get you out of here, hear me?”

But the girl was twisting away from him in her seat, and as he released her hands, she began to try to push him away.

“Get off-“

“Don’t worry- shh- I’m just trying to-“

“Get. Away. From her.”

Percy was frozen, watching the scene unfold. The hippie had stood back up, but in place of the discreet switchblade, he was now toting a heavy looking shotgun.

“Holy…” The priest was backing away from the two-way mirror. “Get… get away from the window.”

Percy barely heard him. He was transfixed by the scene before him. The tied-up woman, head weaving as she looked from the salesman to the hippie. The salesman, slowly reaching for his pistol. And the girl’s captor himself, half his face red from the blow of the door, blinking a trickle of blood out of his eye as it dripped down from his split brow.

“Now, now.” The salesman had dropped his previously bumbling demeanor and now spoke with calm authority as he straightened up, pistol in hand. “Don’t go doin anything you might regret.”

“Percy…” The priest was slowly moving down the hall. “Get away from the glass.”

“We…” he swallowed, unable to look away from the horrific tableau. “We have to help her, Father.”

“Percy!”

“Get. Away. From. My sister.”

“Son- you better put that gun-“

A blast. The shattering of glass. And the world went red for a moment.

~

Grog winced as he checked the clock in his dashboard. Not only was he late, but Pike really wasn’t going to be pleased when she found out that he probably had given her the wrong room number. _Maybe_ given her the wrong one. He really couldn’t remember, which was why he’d called her for backup in the first place.

She wasn’t even supposed to find out about the bank job, let alone get involved. It was supposed to be over two years ago. But then he was the only one in the crew who hadn’t got pinched. Which meant that the feds had tails tight on his ass everywhere he turned. He’d had to go dark, barely even talking to Pike and Wilhelm on the phone. So he’d been patient. Grog hated being patient, but he’d done it. He’d waited two whole years for his partner to be paroled so they could split the loot he’d managed to stash before the surveillance started.

But he’d forgotten the room number. It was either #4 or #5. He’d been sure it was #4 when he last talked to his partner, and by the time he started doubting it, it had been too late to contact him again. Grog had never been too hot with the numbers.

So when Pike called to say she’d be in Vegas that weekend, he took a chance. She was closer than he was. He just asked that if she stopped that night before the city, she stay at the El Royale in room #5.

~

Vex finished detangling herself from her ropes and got to her feet, shaking out her hands and chaffing her wrists. Vax was cursing, panicked, under his breath as he climbed through the jagged hole where the room’s mirror had been. She ignored him as she bent down to check the man’s pulse.

“Vax? I think he’s dead.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

Footsteps as he ran down the hall behind the mirror. Vex took the opportunity to pick up the phone and dialed the only number she had memorized.

“Hey. It’s me.” She smiled at the response. “Yeah- we’re in some motel somewhere. I think Vax killed a cop.” She looked around the space, the voice on the other line seeping into her veins and calming her mind almost as effectively as the drugs that were slow to leave her system still. “I don’t know, give me a second.” There was a notepad on the nightstand with a printed insignia. “Looks like the El Royale.” She leaned back against the pillows and gave the ceiling a smile. “So… are you going to come on after me?”

~

_The bank job went off almost as well as it could have. The operative word being “almost.” Scanlan steered the small car with one hand and kept his pistol at the ready as he drove. There were no flashing lights in the rearview, but it wouldn’t be long._

_“Shit, shit, shit.”_

_The truck he had been following was losing speed. He’d told Grog to take it into the shop. Or at least ask his sister to have a look at it before the job. Evidently she hadn’t had the time._

_“The hell is goin on?” Scanlan jumped out of the car before it had fully stopped. “It just died?”_

_“Fuckin thing!” Grog kicked a fender as smoke curled from under the hood. “She said it would get me through a day of work if I brought it to the shop right after!”_

_Scanlan blinked, then groaned. “Grog- did your sister think you were just drivin down to the water for dock work?”_

_Grog frowned, scratching the back of his neck. “Well I didn’t want her to know I was doin this kind of work still, she worries.”_

_Scanlan made a snap decision and shoved his hand into his pocket to fish out his keys once more. He felt strangely calm at the choice he was making. More calm than he should be feeling, doing something so stupidly selfless. But when it came down to it, he could handle getting pinched. Grog was an idiot, but he’d been one of the best friends Scanlan had ever had. He couldn’t leave him out to dry._

_“Here.” He passed Grog the keys and slapped his hand closed around them. “Take the car. Bag’s under the passenger’s seat. Meet point is the El Royale outside Vegas. Room #4.”_

_“You’re comin with, aren’t ya?”_

_“Fraid not, Big Guy.” Scanlan pulled up a closed-lipped smile and gripped Grog’s massive shoulder. “I’ve got to stick around here and make sure they think we already stashed the shit. Now get moving!”_

If he hadn’t been selfless, he wouldn’t be here, sitting in a strange woman’s car, pistol trained on him as he took a deep breath and prepared himself to explain.

“So… I’m not really a priest.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

~

Vax flipped around a chair, straddling it and folding his arms over the back as he fixed the young man with what he hoped was a cold stare. He lit a cigarette to keep his hands from shaking.

“So… it’s Percy, right?”

The young man nodded. His jaw was set, but he was only taking shallow, shaky breaths through his nose. One side of his face was a mess of blood, dyeing his shirt and hair the same slick red as the open wounds.

“Hang on- you got glass in your hair.”

Percy winced as Vax tried to pick out the worst of the shards, finding many smaller pieces ground in too deep to get with his fingers.

“Are you going to kill me?”

Vax considered him, trying not to look pained. “What are my other options, Percy? You saw what happened in that room.”

“I don’t know your name. I’ll say I was knocked out so hard I don’t remember what you look like.”

“I’m Vex.”

Vax closed his eyes, wincing as Vex stepped to his side and propped her elbow on his shoulder without care.

“He’s Vax.” She plucked the cigarette from his fingers and took a delicate drag. “Legally Vex’ahlia and Vax’ildan, last name Vessar, but that’s our dad’s and he’s a real piece of work so we don’t use it unless we have to.”

“Thanks, Vex.” Vax took the cigarette back, feeling his pulse speed up again. “So what am I supposed to do with someone who knows our names and saw me shoot someone?”

“I won’t say a word.” Percy was still breathing shallow and hard through his nose. He must have been in a lot of pain but didn’t show it other than a slight tremor in his chin. “I know how to keep my mouth shut.”

“So what- you work in a pervert hotel. This is a bit more than skin flicks, isn’t it?”

Percy’s gaze became steadier as he fixed Vax with a hard stare.

“He’s not the first person to die in this place.”

Vax frowned, leaning back and digging in his pocket. Vex, apparently bored, wandered off again as they talked.

“Then what is this place? Really?” He pulled out the small bottle he’d found on the table in the employee quarters. “This yours? I’ll let you have it back if I like what you got to say.”

Percy shook his head, taking a few steadying breaths. He was obviously trying hard not to look at the bottle. Not to show how much he wanted it. “I don’t know. I don’t ask questions. That- that’s why they hired me. They promised to keep me supplied-“ he nodded at the bottle. “-if I just film politicians and shit and don’t say anything to anyone. They tell me who’s rooms to film and I set the cameras. I’ve never told anyone about the people they filmed. Not one. Not about the politicians or celebrities fucking. And not about the shit covered junkie I had to clean up after once the morgue came to take him away. Or about the whore beat up so bad her face didn’t look human anymore when she limped out of here. The… the man that stripped down and held onto a live wolf all night. I never told anyone about any of those things.”

“You just told me.” Vax stubbed out his cigarette on the back of the chair. “And none of those things is murder.”

“It was self-defense. He broke into your room with a gun.”

Vax couldn’t fight down a grin, even though he still felt cold and nauseous. “Hell, Percy. You always know how to talk yourself outta shit?”

The young man’s eyes finally dropped and Vax almost didn’t hear him answer.

“Not always.”

~

Pike stood at the center of the room while Scanlan ripped up the patch of carpet and prized up the floorboards. She started by pacing the room to the beat of her metronome, trying to wet her cracked lips.

_“I need love, love…”_

Her head was starting to pound. She hadn’t thought about it, but she was soaking wet and she was starting to feel every pin in her hair. She took a few more deep breaths as she reached up and removed them, at last able to slip off her rain-heavy wig and scratch her nails through her short, natural curls.

_“To ease my mind.”_

She tried not to let her voice shake. She kept stepping and tried to unclench her fists. Pike forced herself to look away when she met Scanlan’s eyes, but she could see the sweat beading at his temple. As she approached the chorus, she marked the start of every bar with sharp claps that thudded in the dusty air.

 _“I remember Mama said: can’t—“_ she faltered slightly as Scanlan made his first tap on the end of the crowbar wedged under the first floorboard. “— _hurry love, no you just have to wait.”_

Pike closed her eyes as she sang, stepping closer to the mirror in defiance of the terror she felt at the prospect of someone looking through it.

~

After Vax’s call, Keyleth somehow felt even worse. She got through dinner by staring blankly at the wood grain of the table, thinking about the way his voice had shook as he quickly told her the motel they were staying in.

“Hmm?” She realized her father had been speaking to her for likely the last few minutes and she hadn’t heard a word. “I’m sorry, Dad. I was in the clouds again.”

Her father only smiled across the table at her. “Did your friends call?”

Keyleth nodded, swallowing her mouthful of potatoes. “Yeah. They’re stayin outside Vegas tonight. Bout a six hour drive from here.”

“Well that’s not bad at all. They’ll be here before you know it.”

She hummed and nodded, toying with the venison left on her plate. She wanted to snap her fingers and have Vax and his sister appear safe. Keyleth had no real reason to be so concerned. She didn’t know Vax’s sister at all. She didn’t even _really_ know Vax.

“I’m just worried. It sounded like… like my friend’s sister didn’t want to leave. I’m worried they’ll fight all night or she’ll try to leave while he’s asleep.”

Her father chewed his food and considered her thoughtfully. “You want to meet them there, don’t you?”

As if waiting for it to be said out loud, Keyleth stood and began gathering her things. He didn’t protest as she shrugged on a heavy raincoat and oversized rubber boots.

“I’ll call if I need anything.” Keyleth grabbed her keys and kissed him on the cheek.

“You sure you don’t want anyone to come with? I don’t mind trading off driving.”

“I’ll be fine.” She forced a small smile before she opened the door. “I’m sure I’m worrying for nothing.”

It wasn’t raining yet in Utah, but there was thick, low cloud cover as far west as she could see. Keyleth jumped into the driver’s seat of the large van she usually used to transport chicken feed by the ton. If she sped on the deserted highway, she could probably make it in less than six hours. Shoving the keys in the ignition, Keyleth grimaced as the radio crackled to life.

_“Oh he’s not a rebel oh no, no, no,_

_He’s not a rebel oh no, no, no_

_To me!”_

“Oh who asked you…” she grumbled as she hastily changed the station.

~

Percy tried to ignore the pulsing pain in his face and neck. The man, Vax, was gathering up his shot gun and heading back toward the maintenance hall. His captive—not captive? Sister? Vex—was wandering freely around the lobby, cracking her knuckles as she examined the chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

“Vex? Watch him. I’m going to check the other rooms.”

“Sure. Can I have his stuff?”

“No.”

She watched him go and sighed, turning her attention to Percy. “Do you got anything else on you he didn’t find?”

“I- no.”

She gave a heavy sigh and sat sideways on the chair her brother had left opposite him. She fit her chin on the back and fixed him with a bold and steady stare.

“What’s your name?”

“Percy.”

“I’m sorry about your face, Percy. Vax didn’t know you were back there when he shot that cop, honest.” She held up a thumb and squinted one eye shut, then the other. “Bet you’re a real lady-killer normally.”

“Please.” Percy’s voice cracked, but he pushed it on. “You have to help me.”

“Oh, no. You have to stay right where you’re at I’m afraid.”

“We can- we can get away from him. I can help you if you just untie-“

But she was shaking her head, a small laugh on her lips. “No, see, I think you got things wrong. I’m not leavin Vax.”

Percy took a deep, shuddering breath and tried again. “I know he’s your brother, but I also know he tied you up. I can help you get away from him. Find someplace safe.”

Vex only frowned. “Now I _know_ you got things wrong. Vax has been a real dick lately, but it’s not as serious as all that. I just didn’t want to leave, and he did. I’ll get him back for tyin me up later, don’t worry.”

“He- he drugged you and-“

“No- I dropped acid earlier cuz I wanted to have a good day.” When he only looked dumbfounded, she cocked her head to the side. “What do you take _your_ stuff for, if not to have a good time?”

Percy swallowed. Despite her disheveled state and still somewhat bleary expression, he was struck by an honest curiosity in her dark eyes.

“I- I don’t know. I guess I don’t have anything else left.”

A deep sadness that somehow wasn’t pitying took over her expression. “Well that’s a damn shame, Percy. I’m sorry to hear that.”

Percy let his head drop down, resting his chin on his sternum. “Please… If you won’t leave, you can still help me. Don’t let me-“ he swallowed again. There was a mix of shame, anger and defeat in forcing himself to say it. “Don’t let me die without talking to the priest.”

She shook her head and touched his face, sad expression looking almost too warm for a perfect stranger. “I’m sorry, Darling. But it’s not up to me.”

“He’s your brother-“ Percy pressed on. “You can talk to him-“

He cut himself off at the sound of footsteps approaching once more from the maintenance hall.

“It’s not up to Vax either, is it?”

Her brother approached them with a frown, still toting the shotgun.

“What’s not up to me?”

“Whether or not Percy dies tonight.”

Percy shivered. There was such an easy matter-of-fact-ness to how she discussed his fate. Gone was the sad warmth and open honesty. Her expression was once more carelessly pleased- a mask with empty eyes. Her brother didn’t seem to like this look either, approaching slowly, fingers drumming on the butt of his gun.

“Then who’s it up to, Stubby?” Vax spoke cautiously, like he had a guess of the answer and didn’t want to hear it.

Vex rolled her eyes and fixed him with a calm smile. “Just tell him you’re sorry- he’ll get over you takin me and leavin if you just apologize.”

Vax cursed right as the front doors burst open and a man stepped in. He was soaked by the rain, his white western shirt heavy and see-through. Once he had crossed the threshold, a handful of men and women flanking him spilled in as well, armed with rifles, handguns and a few machetes.

“Well howdy.”

~

Scanlan felt more calm than he should have as they were tied up on the casino side of the lobby. He should be having a complete breakdown about now. They were all there, all at the mercy of the rain-soaked strangers toting rifles and long heavy knives. Himself and Pike were bound on one side of the roulette table, facing the bellman and the chain-smoking hippie. The only one that wasn’t tied up was the latter’s former captive. She must have been a sister- the resemblance was too strong. The young woman was up and about now, though still looking lethargic. She clung to the man leading them all, a dreamy expression on her face as he stroked her hair.

“Father-“

Scanlan looked to Percy and had to look back down. It was hard to make direct eye contact with the young man when half of his face was so much mincemeat.

“Father, please. I wish to confess.”

Scanlan gave a hefty sigh. The boy was tenacious, he’d give him that. “Alright, my son. When was your last confession?” That was a thing the priests said in movies, right?

“This would be my first.”

This was enough of a surprise that Scanlan looked straight at the young man. Percy offered him a wry, if shaky smile through the blood.

“Grew up Lutheran, but haven’t been affiliated since I was very young.”

“Then why-“

He let out what might have been the start of a hysterical laugh, though it didn’t seem to have the breath to go anywhere.

“I-I guess I’m hedging my bets.”

Scanlan couldn’t fight back his own smile and shook his head.

“Aren’t we all?”

“Hey!” The apparent leader snapped his fingers and pointed at the two of them. “Knock it off! You’re pissin me off.”

He approached the table where they had been gathered, arm slung around the shoulders of the bleary young woman from room #7. She had her arms wrapped around his waist and was looking up at him like he hung the moon. Or at least centered her universe.

“Boots honey, this everybody in the place?”

“I dunno, I just woke up here.”

“Alright then, how bout you, bell boy?”

“It’s Percy.”

“Oh well then I do apologize.” The man swept a dramatic, mocking bow. “My name is Saundor, at your service, my lord.” He straightened up and pulled a pistol from the waistband of his jeans, pressing it smoothly to the young man’s temple. “Anybody else here, Percy the bell boy?”

“No.” Percy was visibly shaking now. “No, that’s it.”

“Hm. Not sure I believe you.” He snapped his fingers and pointed to a small knot of his followers. “You two- check the other rooms. And Boots, pick some music. It’s getting spooky quiet in here.”

~

_Vax only been at Echo Heart Ranch for a few days when the leader asked to go for a walk with him. They talked of plenty, and Vax was surprised by how much Vex had told the man about their lives._

_"How long are you planning to stay?"_

_"Oh I dunno. Figure as long as Vex does."_

_"We don't do part time memberships in this family. You can take your time to decide, but you_ do _have to decide."_

_"Then I guess I'm still deciding."_

_They exchanged enough looks before long that Saundor pushed him up against a tree and kissed him with confidence. Vax wanted to feel guilty about it. He knew his sister well enough to know the way she looked at the man and how she spoke about him. But sex seemed to pass between everyone in the group freely, so he tried not to worry too hard._

_Despite this freedom, there was always a possessiveness to the way Saundor touched everyone. In every push, pull, kiss, bite. Rarely hard enough to hurt, and even when it did, it never lasted past the moment. Just a reminder, spoken silently under all of it:_

_Mine, mine, mine._

_Weeks later, Vax lay awake in bed, coming down off the acid and starting to think too much again. He didn't know how long it had been, but he grimaced on hearing Saundor in the next room, his murmurings punctuated by soft gasps and a few stray giggles. It didn't so much bother him as strike him as excessive. It seemed the leader of the family had a never-ending libido. Sometimes Vax thought that was half the reason he'd started the ranch in the first place. Just a whole philosophy and life mission as an excuse to fuck a whole lot._

_The sounds on the other side of the wall peaked and then fell off. Vax didn't feel as nauseated as he usually did when coming down. Maybe he was getting used to using more often- or he was just always a little high. This thought should probably have deterred him, but he leaned over and rummaged in the clothes by the bed until he'd found his jeans, pulling them on before digging the lighter out of the pocket to light the joint he found on the cluttered bedside table._

_The door opened, a tall, slim figure slipping inside._

_"Vax? Oh good, you're awake."_

_Vax grimaced, not sure if he was more bothered by hearing his sister fucking Saundor, or by the fact that the man had gone from fucking one twin to the other in such a short space if time. He didn't sit up as Vex crossed the room in a few short skips and flopped down beside him, plucking the joint from his fingers and taking a long hit._

_"What do you know?"_

_"What do you see?" He replied, but he knew his voice sounded flat._

_Vex slung her arm around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder. Vax shifted to wrap his arm around her back but kept frowning._

_"I'm glad you joined me here." She said it in an off-handed way that bothered Vax more than it should._

_"Hmm."_

_He wanted to ask what she would have done if he hadn't. Wanted to know what she would say if he asked her to leave with him. Wanted to ask where all of them went on their nighttime excursions out sometimes, when they returned breathless and loud and manic. But he didn't ask. He was in one of his low moods and too high to argue anything properly. As always, they were much better at talking one another into things than out of them._

_"Are you sad?" She propped her chin on him to frown at his vacant expression. "You shouldn't be. This is the best we've had it, Vax. You know it is. Saundor-"_

_"Is some hippie dope head, fucking anything that moves in the woods." He couldn't stop himself._

_Vex frowned but rolled her eyes and pulled up a grin instead. "Maybe. But he's also brilliant. I feel like I've learned so much from him here. And he loves us. Can't say that for anyone else, can you?"_

_He didn't argue, though he wanted to say that they'd never needed anyone else to love them before, and he wasn't sure he wanted it now. It used to be enough, just the two of them watching one another's backs. Good or bad, he hated the idea of feeling grateful for receiving love._

_“He says it’s my turn to earn my tattoo soon.”_

_Vax didn’t have time to process this and decide whether or not he liked it, as they were interrupted by a voice coming from the open doorway._

_"Now ain't that a pretty picture."_

_Vax didn't like the way Saundor looked at them together, he knew that much. The tall man's eyes flicked down both of their forms, appreciative, but lingered on where they touched. Maybe Vax was feeling nauseous after all._

_"Vax thinks you'll fuck anything that moves, Saundor."_

_Vax made a slight grimace of annoyance while the tall man laughed, crossing his arms over his bare chest. He didn't much care that Saundor knew what he thought of him, he just didn't like the way Vex spoke his words so light and teasing to the man, like they had a secret amusement that Vax wasn’t invited to._

_"That right?" Saundor gave him a bemused eyebrow. "Sounds to me like somebody's jealous."_

_Vax's lip curled with disgust as Saundor crossed to lay on his opposite side, skimming his hand over his waist, just above his jeans. The hand didn't stop there, though, moving on to Vex's thigh, teasing the fabric of her nightgown up even higher as his lips brushed Vax's ear._

_"Sure we could fix that pretty easy."_

_Vax sat up abruptly, knocking his hand off them both._

_"The fuck is wrong with you?" He got up off the bed, trying fight down the cold, sick feeling creeping down his spine._

_"Vax..." there was pouting reproach in Vex's voice as she stayed where she was on the bed, rolling her eyes at him. "He's only teasing. You take everything so serious."_

_Saundor was laughing, which definitely was making Vax feel nauseous as he dug his shirt out from the pile of clothes on the floor and pulled it on, grabbing his lighter from the side table and jamming a cigarette between his teeth so he could feign an excuse for why his hands were shaking._

_"Goin for a walk," he mumbled around the paper as he lit it. "You two can tease each other all you want without me."_

Now, tied to a chair in the casino of a shit motel between Nevada and California, Vax thought it was probably his own damn fault for not leaving the moment he found out about the tattoos shared by the family. He should have asked more questions. Should have seen all the talk for what it was. Should have listened to the pretty red-haired girl in Utah who worried about him after only knowing him an hour. After knowing he’d been to prison and not blinking at the stick-and-poke lines across his hands and peeking out from the sleeves of his shirt.

“Now, this one’s Father Burt Reynolds, and I’m guessing you’re Pike Trickfoot?” The small black woman across from Vax flinched. "You might be "Fuck you" but something tells me that's my Vax."

Saundor crossed to his side and even though he knew it was useless, Vax jerked against the ropes binding him to the chair.

"Don't you fucking touch me."

"Why not?" Saundor crouched down at his side and brushed his hair from his face. "You liked it fine before."

"I'm a good actor."

Saundor let out a deep laugh and pressed a thumb into the swelling around Vax's eye. Vax hissed but didn't cry out at the pain.

"You can't take what's mine, don't you know that?"

"She's..." he had to clear the blood from his throat before continuing. "Not yours."

"I'd beg to differ. I'd say you're both mine." Saundor crouched down close to the side of Vax's face so he could feel the bastard’s breath, hot on his cheek. It made his stomach turn. "Boots, honey, you two mine?"

"Mhmm."

"There now." Saundor lowered his voice to that low, dangerous growl that said there was only one answer to be had to anything he asked. "And I don't even have to ask you, do I? Cuz we all know, anywhere his twin goes, Vax is there twice as fast, half as smart, and with no exit strategy at all. You ever think about how much trouble you cause her by jumping the gun everywhere you go? I don't believe either of you would have met me at all if it weren't for you and your hot head, Vax. And I thank you for that. Can't wait to get you two back to the ranch." He trailed the back of his fingers down Vax's face and settled his hand on his jaw to manipulate the angle of his head. "I do love owning a matching set."

Vax tried to keep his breathing calm even though he could feel his pulse in throbs in his face from the door hitting him earlier. He tried to swallow back the anger that hadn’t served them well so far, but it was near impossible. Vex was watching them from the other side of the table, that horrible blank look on her face. Like she was waiting to be told what to do. It was more wrong than anything else, how she never acted without instruction anymore. Saundor moved closer to him, his lips almost brushing his ear.

“That sweet sister of yours tell you what she’s willing to do for me? To prove how much she cares about our family?”

“We weren’t like this.” Vax’s voice came out much softer than he meant it to and he hated himself for it. “We stole and we fucked around but we never hurt anybody. Before you… we never would hav-“

“Never would have what, Vax? Killed a cop dead for tryin to help a kidnapped girl?”

Vax swallowed and looked up at the lights until his eyes burned, refusing to look at the man still crowding his space. “I did what I had to. She doesn’t _have_ to do a thing for you.”

“You know, maybe that’s true.” Saundor straightened up but kept his grip on Vax’s chin to force him to look at him again. “But she sure _wants_ to.”

~

Pike watched the man dance around the table as he eyed each of them, a small smile on his lips that got nowhere near showing in his sharp, green eyes.

“So… we got my Vax takin his twin to a hotel where a priest just to happens to be rippin the floor and haulin around this-“ he hefted the duffle bag up and dumped it out over the roulette table in front of them. “As he tries to make a run at 2am. Seems like a bit of a coincidence, don’t you think, Pike?”

“It’s not Father Reynold’s money.” Pike kept her chin up and made direct eye contact with the man. “It’s mine.”

“It’s yours?” The man raised his eyebrows and laughed. “Now how about that? Tell me, Pike Trickfoot, where’s a scrawny little colored girl in beat up shoes get this kinda money?”

Pike breathed slowly through her nose. “I earned it. Singing.”

Another laugh. “Must be one hell of a singer.”

“I am.”

The laugh was cold and sharp now. “Confidence. I like that. But I’m afraid I don’t believe it.”

“She’s telling the truth.” Father Reynolds beside her had a bleeding lip. He’d been hit with the butt of a rifle as they were dragged from the room. “I met her here. She earned that money singing.”

Saundor looked amused by this assertion. He wandered to the end of the table and slapped his gun down.

“Alright then, here’s the deal:” he put a hand on the roulette wheel. “Since not a one of you are bein helpful, we’re gunna play a little game. Vax here is gunna pick a color…” he gave the wheel a forceful spin that made the whole thing wobble violently. “And if he’s right, he gets the bullet, and other color goes to…” he made an indecisive humming noise. “Let’s say the bell boy.”

Pike’s stomach clenched and she started trying to work her wrists free. She couldn’t watch this. This couldn’t happen, not here. She couldn’t sit by and watch anyone die.

“I’m not playin, Saundor.” The man with the long black hair said, his voice low and soft like he was too tired for any of this. “Fuck off.”

“I’m giving you a chance, Vax.” Saundor slapped a hand on the back of his chair, inspiring a flinch as he leaned in close to his face. “You’re not sorry? You don’t want to make things right between us? Not even for Vex?”

“Vax…” the woman played with some of the bills scattered over the table. “Saundor’s bein pretty nice about all of this. He’s givin you a shot to fix things. I think you should take it. Don’t you want to go home with us?”

The woman’s brother looked at her like she’d slapped him. Pike watched his eyes shine and his throat bob.

“Vex…”

She leaned in and lowered her voice, her words just barely audible to Pike just on the other side of the table from them.

“I can’t help you if you’re just going to be a stubborn jackass. I can’t help you if you’re just going to be reckless.”

The man kept staring at her, but Pike could see his jaw working. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely a whisper.

“Red.”

Saundor smiled in that terrible, dead-eyed way. He picked up his pistol again and pulled the hammer back. He checked Pike and Scanlan’s faces to ensure they were watching as he lifted it aloft.

Pike was making progress on her bonds, but the wheel was slowing. She risked shifting her shoulders, even knowing there was someone at her back with a rifle. Hopefully Saundor’s followers were just as fixed on the scene before them as she was.

There was a clatter of the ball falling from the edge of the wheel. Saundor barely glanced at it before giving a hefty sigh and lowering his aim.

“A real shame.”

~

Vex didn’t even hear the gunshot. She didn’t hear anything at all as Vax, still tied up, was knocked to the floor by the bullet’s impact. She wasn’t sure if she was silent or if she was screaming. In what seemed like far too long, she made it around the table to fall to her knees at his side. There was blood. It was a lot, but was it enough? She didn’t think so. Not enough for heart or an artery, she thought. She hoped.

“Vax. Vax-“

He was speaking before she was close enough to hear, which had to be a good sign. It had to be.

“-okay. It’s okay, Vex, it’s okay. Don’t-“

“It’s not.” For lack of anything to use as a bandage, she pressed a palm to the bullet wound in his shoulder, trying to stop the bleeding. “Shut your mouth, Vax, you hear me? It’s not okay. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-“

“Listen.” He was shaking, even tied up. “You have to-“

“-to slow the bleeding, I know. You’ll be alright if we can just slow it down long enough to get-“

“Vex.” Even as he bled over her hands, his voice sounded more firm and steady than she ever remembered hearing it. “Get. Out.”

If the blood wasn’t enough to frighten her, if his face losing color wasn’t, the calm and acceptance in his voice would have pushed her over the edge to real fear.

“No.” She shook her head, using her free hand to try to pull at the knots keeping him bound to the chair. “No, I’m staying right here. If I can just- fuck!”

“Vex…”

“Goddammit, Vax- where’s your fuckin knife…”

“Alright, Boots, alright.”

Vex froze, her throat closing up at the approaching footfalls. Her eyes were locked on Vax’s face, but she could already feel herself listing back, hoping this could be fixed without a fight. That the wrinkles of her life that had gotten out of control could still be smoothed out without sacrificing any of the fabric of what she knew.

“Alright then, Boots. Up you get.” The hand on her bicep pulled her back to her feet and she had to take her hand from Vax’s shoulder. “Come on now, quit your cryin.”

“Saundor-“ her voice shook, but she forced a pacifying smile. “Vax- he’s sorry. He’s learned his lesson, Baby, please just let me-“

“Now, now.” Saundor wrapped his arms around her and it was almost better with the light of the lobby blocked out by his shoulder in her face. “You wanted to earn your tattoo, hmm?” He pulled back and took her hand, pressing her bloody palm to the inked woodgrain-patterned heart on his chest. “How bout this: you just sit tight here until we’re done, and we’ll call it your first blood.”

Vex tried to speak, but her throat wasn’t cooperating. All she could manage for a moment was shaking her head over and over. He couldn’t. He wasn’t asking what she thought he was.

“It’s Vax…” it was the only coherent thought she could manage to get out. “Saundor… I can’t… it’s _Vax_ …”

He hushed her. “I know you don’t wanna hurt anybody, Vex. Cuz you got more heart in you than the rest of us, it’s why I love you best. You’re so different, but you still want to belong to us, don’t you? Still want your heart to show who you are? This way, you don’t have to do a thing.” He smiled down at her, holding her chin and stroking her lip with his thumb. “You don’t have to hurt anyone. You just have to… let the chips fall where they may.”

Vex looked down at where Vax was still bleeding. His time was running short. He was mouthing something over and over. ‘Jacket.’

Saundor pulled her back to him, kissing her deep and holding her with all the security and promise she had fallen for. His hand on the back of her neck felt the way it always did- sure and heavy. As reliable and reassuring as gravity.

~

Percy thought he might black out. He had thought he knew fear before this moment. He’d thought he’d run out of options and been forced to accept his fate. But it was only now that he realized what it was to lose all hope.

The girl called Vex had stopped screaming and talking once Saundor had pulled her back to her feet, and in the quiet it still took Percy some time to realize he was speaking himself.

“Hey! Percy! Shut it, or I’ll gag you, alright?”

“-don’t want to die. I don’t- I can’t be this. I can’t _be_ just this. I have to be better. I can’t die who I am!”

The back of a hand cracked across the uninjured side of his face. He was near numb to the pain, but the force startled him and he choked.

“I said shut up!”

Saundor’s shout was followed by a crack of thunder and flash of lightening right on top of each other. There were a few shouts as the lights and jukebox cut out, leaving them lit only by the iron braziers set near the front door and entrance to the restaurant. There were a few beats of quiet before Saundor began muttering under his breath.

“No, no, no… I don’t like this.” He started gesturing at all of them with the gun. “You know- you know how you can tell you’re fucked out in the jungle- in the forest, right? It’s when you can’t _hear_ anything. All the birds and animals know before you do that something ain’t right.” He snapped a few times before jabbing a finger across the table at the small woman named Pike. “You- Miss Pike Trickfoot the singer. Sing something for us.”

“Don’t.” Before she could even open her mouth, Father Reynolds shook his head in disgust. “Don’t you sing for this bastard.”

“How’s about this?” Saundor paced closer and closer to the edge of the table. “How bout you sing us a little song, and if I think you’re any good, you don’t have to play our little game, hm?”

“Don’t believe him.” The priest shook his head, looking a lot braver than Percy felt before this man. Maybe that’s what faith got for people. Maybe that’s what he had always been missing inside. “He’ll do whatever he wants no matter what, but he sure as hell don’t deserve to hear that voice of yours.”

The woman named Pike closed her eyes and a pair of tears squeezed out before she opened them.

“Sing, girl.”

“No, I don’t think I will.”

“I don’t think you get who I am-“

“Oh?” The woman’s dark eyes flashed to meet the much larger man’s like she didn’t have a thing in the world to be afraid of. “You think I haven’t met a hundred men like you on every corner of this world? Lemme guess-“ she went on before he could answer-“ you went your whole life sure you were special, and for a long time, no one disagreed. Maybe they fed into it a little bit. And then something happened. Maybe it was sudden and traumatic, maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was just getting older and being told “no” once in awhile. Either way, you reacted by getting mad. Mad because you weren’t given everything you knew you deserved. So you figured out how to find and surround yourself with people who don’t say no to you. You talked and talked in big wide circles and they listened because what else would they do? Didn’t matter that nothing you said meant a thing. You talked and they listened because any useless, inane thought that passed through you mind was worth saying. Pretty soon you’ve got all these people who won’t say no to you holding guns to strangers heads and you’ve lost control of it all.

“And you know what the most frustrating thing about it is? You could have actually _done_ something worthwhile, surrounding yourself with people just as lost and lonely as you. You could have made a family of misfits lifting one another up. You could have made art, learned and taught one another, helped the world around you. But instead, you are stupid and useless and still _lonely_. And now that tiny, underused brain of yours is scrambling to save face in front of all these folks because me and that boy bleedin out on the floor say ‘no.’” She dropped her head and laughed a little. “I’ve met a hundred men like you and I’ll meet a hundred more. They’re everywhere. The cops in the neighborhood I grew up in, in the churches we went to, in bars, in the university, the hospital, the military, and then the music scene… It doesn’t matter. You’re all the same and I’m just… _tired_ of hearing you talk.”

A cold, empty silence took over the air. Percy thought his teeth might be chattering. Saundor narrowed his eyes at Pike.

“Sing.”

“No, I don’t think I will. I’d rather listen to the rain.”

The hammer of the pistol clicked again, the barrel lowering steadily to aim between her eyes.

“ _Sing.”_

When she only met his gaze with an even stare, he sneered and reached out to spin the wheel again. “Well, Percy, you were lucky once. Let’s see if you can keep your streak.”

“No-“ Percy choked, the sound of his own voice tearing out of his throat like a sharp, physical thing. He was shaking all over, but couldn’t feel it, could only see his hands and knees before him shivering like a newborn calf. “Please- I have- I need to-“

“Shut up!”

“For- forgive me, Father, for I have sinned!” Percy stumbled over the words pouring out of his mouth, determined to get them out before the ball fell. If this was the only thing he had left, he was going to make sure he did it. “I’ve done worse than you can know and I _repent_.”

“Oh for Christ’s sake, you gunna tell him or should I?”

Percy tried his best to ignore Saundor and keep speaking. “I am not a faithful man but I seek forgiveness for the evils I have done to others. I have lied and cheated, hurt and killed-“

“He ain’t a fucking priest!”

Percy opened his mouth again, but the words were gone. He watched Father Reynolds’ face. He was looking down at the edge of the table in front of him.

“…Father?”

“I robbed a bank two years ago. Left the cash under the boards in this place but couldn’t get back to retrieve it until now. Thought people wouldn’t bother a priest.” He glanced up at Percy for only a second before looking back down. “That’s it. That’s the whole truth, so you don’t have to keep us here or shoot anybody else.” He swallowed and inclined his head at the cash spread out over the table. “You can take the money and go.”

“No, I don’t think I’m gunna do that.” Saundor grinned at him. “I’m havin fun playin our little game. Think I’ll play until you all bust out.”

Everyone stopped talking then, and it took Percy a few moments to realize it was because of him. Because he was _laughing_. His eyes were fixed on the table in front of him, but he wasn’t really seeing it. He could barely even feel or hear himself laughing, though it was deep enough to shake his chest.

“Hey- bell boy! Shut up!”

But Percy couldn’t if he tried. He let his head fall back and stopped trying to stifle the noise.

“Of course!” He managed to get a few words out in between his fits of mirth. “Of _course,_ he’s a fake fucking priest! Oh if there was one thing to make me a believer, God, this is it! At the end, looking for one last chance, one scrap of hope that my soul isn’t lost, and you send me a bank robber in a collar! Oh, hallelujah and amen!”

“I said shut up you crazy son of a bitch!”

~

Grog pulled off the road and parked his truck in a cluster of trees just before the motel’s driveway. Maybe it was overly cautious, but he wanted as few identifying sightings of the night as possible. Pike or Scanlan could give him a ride back out once they were done. Once they had the money.

It wasn’t a terribly long walk, but the pouring rain was no joke. Still, he was undaunted in his journey, until he reached the parking lot. It was more crowded than he had expected, but that was alright. It was late. It was unlikely anyone was awake except Scanlan and Pike waiting for him.

But just as he was feeling paranoid for his stealthy approach, a door crashed open, voices breaking through the rain. Grog ducked behind a slick black Riviera, his brows tightening. As he peeked out, staying low, he saw that every door in the eastern wing was thrown wide open. He clocked two figures moving from room #4 to #5. That wasn’t good. What was worse was that they were definitely armed. Grog wasn’t carrying anything. He didn’t like using guns to be perfectly honest. They were heavy and loud and they never hit who you wanted them to. He preferred his own methods to solving conflict. But he would admit this put him at a significant disadvantage in a surprise attack.

He watched the pair disappear inside the room before moving closing, keeping low behind what he was fairly sure was Pike’s Chevy. From what he could tell, it looked like the strangers were throwing over each of the rooms. That wasn’t good. Hopefully Scanlan had the money already and he and Pike were somewhere safe.

Grog darted out into the open once more, under the awning and up against the wall of the motel room. This was bad. These people couldn’t be any good. They didn’t look like cops, but that didn’t mean they were safe. Grog waited, patient, outside the door to room #4, counting his breaths as the pair inside finished flipping desks and ducking under beds.

The man exited first and Grog moved in less than a flash. He wrapped a massive fist around the barrel of the stranger’s rifle, jerking it not away, but shifting the angle to slam the butt into its owner’s chin. The man didn’t even have time to shout as he fell to the ground, stunned, and Grog was able to swing the gun into the side of the woman’s head as well. The two strangers fell in a messy pile, groaning. Grog stayed where he was, watching them moan and flop in pain for a moment before deciding they probably weren’t going anywhere.

It was quick work to check the two rooms where his friends were supposed to have stayed with the doors already opened and the floorboards ripped up. He hoped the latter meant that Scanlan and Pike were together and had already gotten the money and left. Come to think of it, he probably should have told Pike about Scanlan. If nothing else than to warn that he was a terrible flirt but didn’t mean no harm by it. He’d seen her deck terrible flirts straight in the mouth if she thought they meant any harm, and Scanlan was only a little guy.

At last, he was at the entrance to the motel lobby. There was enough light inside that even through the rain, he could see through the windows. There were plenty of people in the lobby. They were sitting and standing around a large table deep inside. It was hard to make out details, but he was pretty sure Pike and Scanlan were sitting next to each other with their backs to him. That was good.

What wasn’t good was the man pacing around them, pistol in hand. Grog felt his blood start to pound in his ears at the thought of anyone threatening either of them. How dare this dirty hippie fucking look at his Pike and his Scanlan while holding that little pea shooter?

Just as he was about to burst through the door, there was a resonant crack that he felt deep in his chest and he was near blinded by a white flash of lightning. When his vision cleared, the floodlights under the awning had gone out and he could only see flickering firelight through the windows. That was good. He could use that.

Grog was not a stealthy man by any measure. It had gotten him into trouble more than a few times in his life. But in the moments after the blackout, he was able to slip inside the doors and keep to the lobby wall without anyone inside noticing. He needed to get a good sense of who was friend and who was foe. There were a lot of folks. That wasn’t good. But it was pretty easy to tell who was on his side and who wasn’t. That was good. But the reason was that Scanlan and Pike were tied to chairs alongside a shivering boy with glasses and a poor sucker that looked like he was halfway to dead on the floor. That most definitely was in the “not good” category.

Grog stayed where he was, frowning. He wasn’t good at coming up with plans. Scanlan usually did that kind of stuff. Grog was more for punching. Seeing the man with the pistol was yelling mostly at the boy with glasses and, more importantly, Pike, that was rapidly becoming exactly what he needed.

“I said shut up you crazy bastard!”

“Leave him alone!”

All it took was the man swinging his gun towards Pike for the rage to rise up in in his chest and Grog was charging.

~

What happened next was too fast for Pike to understand, but it was sure something. Or rather, several somethings at the same time. The thing she knew for sure was that Scanlan suddenly shifted his weight forward so hard that he was able to get his feet under him and swung around to sweep the legs of his chair into her own, knocking her to the ground. There was gunfire, and what Pike could have sworn was a familiar roar of rage.

Her head hit the floor. Bright lights flashed in front of her eyes. There was a whole lot of yelling. The light was growing brighter, but she couldn’t tell if it was because the power had come back on. Every shout and gunshot made her head throb and stomach roll. For a moment, she thought she would black out.

But soon enough her vision cleared as the ringing pain sharpened into something more focused. Pike was on her side. She was still tied to her chair, and the fall had wrenched her shoulders hard enough that the pain rivaled that of her head. It was brighter because someone had knocked into one of the braziers, and the flames were now spreading across the carpet. She could mostly see only feet moving around her. But there was the boy on the other side of the table, soaked in his own blood but his breath still heaving his chest and shoulders. If she craned her neck in the right direction, she could see Percy.

The fall from his chair had broken him loose of his bonds- not as tight as the ones tied by Saundor and his followers. He had detangled himself from the ropes and moved back against a nearby support pillar, knees drawn up to his chest and arms wrapped around his head for cover.

“Percy!”

He looked up, but his pale grey eyes looked past her.

“Percy!” Pike was really starting to panic. She didn’t know how she could survive when she and her only allies were paralyzed by fear or tied up. “ _Help_ us. _Please_ , Percy.”

His mouth was moving, but she couldn’t hear what he was mumbling. It looked like the same thing, over and over.

“Percy!”

“I don’t-“ he finally raised his voice, eyes focusing on her at last. “I don’t want to kill any more people.”

Pike stared at him, her stomach sinking as the pieces fell into place.

“How many people have you killed, Percy?”

“123.”

~

_Percival Fredrickstein Von Mussel Klossowski De Rolo III had always been a good shot. He and his siblings used to hunt grouse on their family’s property and he’d taken to it, younger than any of the rest._

_“Good Lord!” His mother laughed as his tenth clay pigeon in a row shattered over the mansion’s lawn. “I have never seen anyone take to shooting like you, Percy.”_

_He frowned down at the rifle as he reloaded, ignoring the twins as they primed the thrower to shoot his next target._

_“I just practice.”_

_“So do I.” Vesper ruffled his hair, even though she knew he hated it. “And I don’t shoot half as well.”_

_Percy shrugged and held the gun at the ready, waiting for his next target to spring into the air._

_Exactly seven years later, he was laid out behind sandbags, making shots that were almost easy in comparison. The hot, wet air made his clothes cling to his skin and he kept having to blink sweat from his eyes._

_“De Rolo! What’re you waiting for? Take them fuckers out!”_

_He fired. 93. Pull back and cock blindly while looking for the next shot. 94. 95. 96. It was a few explosions and volleys of automatic fire later that he realized he’d blown straight past the 100 mark without noticing. He should have felt something. He didn’t. Percy kept shooting, imagining his targets as whoever had started the fire in his family home. Every kill could just be practice. And in that, every one was worth it._

“It’s alright, Percy.”

He looked up at the woman with the wide, kind eyes. She seemed to have let go of her panic, somehow. He didn’t know that was possible in their current situation.

“You don’t have to kill anyone else. I promise.” Pike went on. “I know. Okay? I know. You don’t have to hurt anyone to help. I’m not going to ask you to hurt anyone. But will you help me get loose? If you do that, I can stop that boy over there bleeding out. We can save somebody, Percy.”

“I don’t—“ he squeezed his eyes tight, a few tears seeping out— “I don’t know if I- if-“

“Stay with me, Percy!” Her voice was sharp enough to keep him focused on her face, but she softened her expression with a shaky smile. “I want you to stay right here. You know why? Cuz I’m glad we met, Percy. I’m glad you came back from war. I’m glad you’re here and I want to keep it that way.”

Percy took another shuddering breath and nodded.

~

Vax’s vision was developing a grey, fuzzy edge. At first, he had been surprised by how okay he felt. The pain was present but masked by his need to keep awake and make sure Vex got out. Now it was a steady throbbing. His hands were starting to feel cold and it was getting harder to keep his palm pressed to the bleeding hole in his shoulder.

“Hey there, you still with us?”

Vax blinked and shifted his gaze to the young woman kneeling next to him. It was her- the one who had sung alone in her room, beautiful voice drawing up memories he’d been shoving back down for years. Memories of helping his mother hang laundry between two trees, her soft voice ringing out over the marshes and her ribbon skirt and plaid shirt standing out bright and colorful against the tall grass. Her low voice sang in a language he didn’t speak, old songs he couldn’t replicate even if he tried.

The woman lifted his hand and carefully began moving the neck of his shirt to examine the wound more closely.

“Oh that’s hardly nothing.”

Vax was still present enough to know the bright, unconcerned tone in her voice was forced. She unbuttoned and shrugged off her blouse, not seeming to care that she was smearing his blood all over her camisole in the process. He hissed as she started to clean the area around the wound, pressing lightly.

“Don’t- don’t waste your time patchin up a corpse.” He pushed the words through his teeth as she began to probe harder. “If I’m too… if you have a chance to run, you take it. I don’t want-“

Vax was cut off by a hand cracking across his face. He stared at the tiny woman crouched before him, too shocked to go on.

“None of that, Honey.” She sounded brisk and businesslike. “I’ve saved fellas in worse shape than you and that’s the God’s honest truth. Just keep awake, alright? I need you to stay focused. Keep talking to me- doesn’t matter what about. You got a girl back home somewhere? Bet you do. Why don’t you tell me all about that pretty girl of yours, huh?”

He let out a dry sort of laugh that hurt more than it should have. “No one. Ain’t got anyone but that twin of mine.”

“Bullshit. What’s her name?”

He couldn’t even force a laugh this time, only swallowed hard. “Keyleth. Her… Her name’s Keyleth.”

~

Vex had slowly started backing up the moment the lights went out. Saundor had his focus on those at the table. Everyone’s eyes were fixed inward- no one seemed aware she had left their midst. She could likely disappear and no one would know for hours. She crouched down by the chair Vax had slung his jacket over some hours earlier. His knife was in the inside pocket, just like she knew it would be. Things were rapidly spiraling out of control around the table. Vex kept moving steadily though, trying to ignore the shouting and soon enough, scuffling and more gunshots behind her. When she had finally turned back around, it was to a much different scene than the one she had last looked on. Someone had knocked over one of the braziers, which had set the thick carpeting alight. The fire was spreading, but no one seemed overly concerned, as most of the members of the family were trying to fight down a behemoth of a man Vex was sure hadn’t been there a moment ago. Saundor was getting back to his feet after being knocked over, presumably by the priest, who was still tied to his chair, now on the ground. Saundor was approaching him, gun in hand.

“Saundor!”

Vex climbed over a chair and the unconscious form of Julia on the ground, trying to pull up a smile. Saundor glanced back at her but kept his aim on the priest.

“Baby…” She bit her lip and Saundor looked slightly less annoyed at the coaxing voice she used when he was in a rage. “Can… can I?”

He blinked once before his face melted into a smile. “Boots, Honey… I told you. You don’t gotta do a thing.”

“I want to.” She set her jaw in a way Vax always said made her look like a horse. “I don’t want special treatment. I want to be part of the family, not just _allowed_.”

His smile turned more warm as she reached him and he lifted a hand to cup her face. “Shoulda known. You’ve always been more stubborn than good, at the end of the day.”

He kissed her hard, a possessive hand twisting in the hair at the nape of her neck to pull her face into the angle he wanted. Vex liked the surety. Belonging _to_ someone still meant belonging. And that had been what she’d spend most of her life looking for, really. According to that, he was all she ever needed.

Saundor choked against her mouth as she sunk Vax’s knife into his belly. His hand tightened on her hair, reflexively.

“Did…” her voice was shaking as she pulled back from his lips, only an inch. “Did you _really_ think—” She drew the knife back and plunged it back in a little higher than before— “that you could try to take Vax from me? _Vax?_ ” Another stab, this one dragging across. “You don’t know a _thing_ about us!”

He kept his grip as he fell, tearing out a fistful of her hair as he crumpled to the ground. The pain helped. It was like being doused in cold water. Vex felt more alert, even if her actions were still slow.

“Vax…”

She turned from Saundor’s crumpled form and tripped toward where Vax was propped against a planter on the floor.

~

Pike’s brows were drawn tight as she felt out the bullet wound in the man’s shoulder.

“I think…” she carefully felt out the bone and muscle and how much had been damaged. “Listen, Vax, right? It would be hard, but I think I can get the bullet out if you promise to stay with me, alright? It’ll be better if I can do it now rather than later. I just need some-“

Before she could finish the thought, there was a bottle of vodka being passed to her. Pike glanced up to find Percy dropping to his knees beside her, still shaking, but his eyes more determined. Pike barely spared him a nod of thanks before spinning off the cap.

“Alright, here we go. Perfect time for you to tell me all about that pretty girl, Keyleth. What’s so special about her? How’re her tits?”

He huffed out a laugh and winced as she started dabbing at the wound with vodka soaked cloth.

“I- I dunno. They’re fine, I guess-“

“Come on, that’s bullshit.” Pike splashed her hands and shook them out. “You telling me you’re too much of a gentleman to think about a pretty girl’s tits? I don’t believe that for a second. Tell me about ‘m.”

She poured the vodka onto his wound and he let out a shout.

“Fuck!”

She set her jaw and set down the vodka at last. Pike had to gather herself for this part. They never warned you about this part. Not in medical school and not in basic training.

“I need you to think about tits, Vax, come on.”

“Freckles-“ he panted, eyes squeezed tight against the burning pain of the alcohol on his open wound. “She’s got- got freckles all down her nose and chest and- god- she’s beautiful-“

Pike finally dug her bare fingers into the wound and his voice broke into a ragged scream. No one ever warned you about the screams and crying of young men who’d been shot. It was a terrible, broken, childish sound, but one she was used to. It was easy to tune him out. Pike hated how easy it was to tune out screams of young men.

_“Fuck…”_

_Pike slumped onto a stool as the soldier before her shuddered one last time and went limp. She dropped the tweezers and forceps into a bowl of water and closed her eyes, just for a moment. She’d lost track of how many hours she’d been awake. The battle had been going on since at least the night before._

_“You can’t save everyone.”_

_“I can try.”_

_She brushed off the doctor’s hand on her shoulder and turned to the next shrapnel ridden body that hadn’t stopped breathing yet. The screams all around them were just the subtle background noise of another day._

~

Percy slumped back against the table leg once he’d retrieved the vodka and clean rags for Pike. He could hear his pulse in his ears. The sounds of the fight had faded and he wasn’t sure if it was actually stopping or his mind was just no longer accepting new information from his senses. He focused hard on one square inch of carpet, like if he tried hard enough, he could force the world to settle in around it. If he could just keep his head, just stay still long enough, stay safe…

“No!”

One of Saundor’s followers dropped to her knees at the dead man’s side. A stab of pity cut into Percy’s chest. With the vile man, these people’s entire lives had died. They’d be as lost as he’d been on returning from the front, only to find that he could not access his inheritance from the death of his family until his 21st birthday. Being lost, alone, a whole new person than the one you use to be, was not a fate he would wish on anyone.

Percy pushed himself up and managed to cross to the girl’s side.

“I’m sorry…”

Careful, he dropped a hand to her shoulder, giving a squeeze when she didn’t shrug him off. “I’m… I know what it’s like-“

He choked as she pivoted on her knees, plunging a knife deep into his side. White hot pain shot through him, cutting through his surprise and even fear. The girl pulled the blade out, ready to stab again. Percy barely heard the nearby roar before a huge figure grabbed her, knocking her head against the wall. Lights popped in front of his eyes as he stumbled back. The pain was sharper than anything he had ever felt before. Being shot, grenade and rock shrapnel, even the new butchering of his face hadn’t been this painful. He couldn’t scramble a single thought but one.

This was it. He was going to die after all of it. After being the third child of seven. After everyone but him had died in the fire, but no one could find Cassandra’s bones. After two years, killing 123 people in Vietnam. After coming back to find next to nothing but a promise of payment in a distant future. Ending wandering and sleeping rough. Using just to sleep at night. Then to get up in the morning. Then to do virtually anything at all. He could survive all that, and now he as going to die on the floor of a tacky motel between Nevada and California, wearing a bellhop uniform and a nametag.

~

Scanlan was managing to disentangle himself from the remains of his bonds and the broken chair.

“Scanlan!”

He’d never in his life been so pleased to feel Grog’s massive hand grab him by the scruff of his neck and set him upright on his feet. The much larger man clumsily helped him remove the broken bits of wood and tangle of rope.

“Grog Strongjaw, you’re late.”

“I’m sorry.” Grog actually looked repentant. “If I’da known what was happenin, I woulda left early.”

“It’s alright, big guy.” Scanlan panted as he surveyed the horrific scene around them. “I’m just glad you’re here now. C’mon. The money-“

His focus came to a screeching halt when his eyes fell on where Percy was clutching his bleeding side on the floor. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

“Get the money back in the bag. I have to stay a second here.”

He ignored Grog’s resulting protests and dropped to Pike’s side. She was tying her own bloody blouse around the hippie’s shoulder in a makeshift bandage.

“I’ll finish this. Desk kid’s hurt bad.”

Pike looked up and swore.

“Okay, okay, okay, okay…” She pressed a clean rag on top of the bandage and grabbed the man’s twin’s wrist to press her hand to the lot in place of her own. “Just keep the pressure, alright?”

The young woman nodded, so Scanlan followed Pike to Percy’s side, carrying the vodka bottle and rags she hadn’t yet used. It was bad. Scanlan didn’t know how bad, but he didn’t like how thin Pike’s lips had gone.

“Father.” She looked up at him, gaze serious. “Help him.”

“I’m not-“

“Help. Him.”

Scanlan swallowed and nodded. Pike began her wound excavating process anew. Not healing or repair. Those gentle words were not right for the stomach-churning work she was doing inside the young man’s skin and guts. Trying not to look, Scanlan moved closer to Percy’s head, touching his shoulder.

“How’re you doin, son? You still up for your confession?”

Percy’s breath was hissing through his teeth and he choked when first trying to speak.

“You- you’re not a priest.”

“Listen kid- we can either play make believe for a second while this woman saves your life, or a dumb conman can make a run for it while you suffer alone, it’s your fucking call.”

Despite his grievous wound in his side, Percy glared at him, breathing hard through his nose. Scanlan thought he may stay silent out of pure stubbornness, but when Pike poured liquor over him, he gasped and let out a sound that somehow made him seem a decade younger. Scanlan wondered how old he really was. Looking at him now, laid back, pale and shaking, he looked barely a man. He’d be surprised if Percy was a year over twenty.

“For-“ his teeth were still grit, but his voice was managing to shake. “Forgive me Father for I have sinned. I have indulged in vices and been consumed with thoughts of violent revenge since I was seventeen years old. I was… I went to war and killed 123 Viet Cong. I truly believed it was wrong, but I was lost so I took my brother’s draft letter and shipped out. I _chose_ to go.”

“You are forgiven, my son.”

Percy shook his head, eyes squeezed tight against the pain as Pike cleaned his wound.

“It- it can’t be that easy.”

Scanlan found himself scowling down at the young man. “Well what do you want me to say, huh? That you’re a piece of shit and God hates you?”

An expression that might have been indignant in any other situation. “Of course not…”

“Then what do you want from the world? Cuz you don’t want forgiveness, but you don’t want condemnation either. So what’s left, Percy? Tell me what you’re looking to hear.”

Percy glared at him, breathing hard. There was a proud sort of frustration to him, even as he bled. At least he seemed distracted from the fear and pain now.

“Tell me-“ he swallowed hard. “Tell me what I have to do. What do I have to do to change?”

Scanlan blinked. He was… tired. He wanted nothing more than to leave with Grog just this second. But he couldn’t bring himself away from these people. Or maybe it was just Pike. Either way, he didn’t want to examine it too closely. So instead he stayed, gripping Percy’s shoulder like a Baptist healer as Pike worked to contain the young man’s guts inside him.

“I don’t know, Perce.” Scanlan finally responded to his demand. “I don’t know how to be better or fix the shit you done wrong. But I know you sure as hell can’t do it dyin here.”

~

Keyleth saw the smoke on the horizon and part of her knew. The rain had started to let up, and through the drizzle, there was a column of black smoke right in front of her, getting heavier and nearer by the moment.

“No… please…” Her fingers drummed on the wheel as she sped up the van. “What did you do Vax?”

Even if it was just to herself, blaming him felt better than considering the possibility that the man and his sister might have been found by Echo Heart and that instead was the cause of the fire. She’d much rather imagine that she’d arrive to disgruntled motel guests standing out in their slippers while firefighters cleared their rooms. She’d like to think she’d find Vax with his sister, tired and damp but safe, giving her that disarming smile as he sheepishly explained he’d left his socks to dry on the furnace or something else silly and embarrassing and not all that dangerous after all. It was feeling less likely by the moment, but she clung to the possibility that everything was still alright.

It couldn’t’ have been burning for long. There were no fire trucks when she finally turned down the drive and the parking lot came into view. Just the cars and trucks of staff and guests. She frowned in confusion as she got closer. There was someone out in the early dawn light, darting between cars with their hoods thrown up. The smoke was indeed coming from the center of the motel, but no one was standing around or taking luggage out of their rooms. Keyleth pulled directly to the curb and jumped out.

“Better not be with the hippies-“ the huge man with a duffle bag shouted at her from the door of a Chevy. “We just were finishing up in there.”

Ignoring how ominous this sounded, Keyleth mounted the front steps just as the doors swung open.

“Vax!”

The name slipped out in surprise before her brain could catch up with what she was seeing. The figure with the long black hair blinked at her, free of recognition. Keyleth’s eyes were late to notice the bare arms free of ink and the swell of hips and breasts filling out a short dress. The short dress that Keyleth initially thought was red, but to her horror, realized was a bloodstained white. The woman with Vax’s face stopped short when Keyleth spoke.

“Who-“

“You’ll leave if you know what’s good for you-“ a short, black woman shot over her shoulder as she shuffled backwards out the door. “Trust me. Vex- keys.”

The woman who looked just like Vax jumped and raced to the large man with the duffle bag, dumping an armful of key sets into his hands. Keyleth only stared. Not only was this woman covered in more blood than the first, but as she pulled through the door it was clear she was carrying the bottom end of a man’s limp body. Another man was carrying the top half and barely spared Keyleth half a glance as they passed on their way down the stairs. The young man between them looked barely conscious- pale and sweating as he gripped a wad of bloody rags to his side.

“Put him in the van.” Keyleth spoke before she could think it through. “You can lay him out in the back easier.”

The two carrying the man only hesitated a moment before nodding and heading for the back of her Volkswagen. She jumped when a hand grabbed hers. The woman nearly identical to Vax was back, eyes filled with terror as she grabbed Keyleth’s arm in a blood-slick hand.

“Come on.”

Keyleth followed without a word. It felt like without even a thought. She coughed the moment the first roll of black smoke hit her. The lobby of the motel was in flames, fire licking up dry wallpaper and across thick carpet. Together they wove between broken furniture and prone bodies littering the ground. Keyleth deliberately didn’t look down at the latter.

But her breath caught in her throat when Vax’s sister let go of her arm. Vax (actually Vax this time) was propped up against a planter full of ferns. He was thinner than she saw him last, and ashen. Though the latter was likely due to the massive amounts of blood spilled over his clothes and makeshift bandage on his shoulder not unlike the one on the man being carried outside.

“C’mon!” The young woman called, impatient, as she crouched by Vax’s side and slung his uninjured arm over her shoulders. “Help me get him up!”

Keyleth lept into action. She dropped to the man’s other side and carefully moved his arm to get a grip around his narrow hips and start to lift.

“Vex…” he croaked, then squinted at Keyleth. “Wha- Key-“

“I got impatient.”

He let out a breathless huff that might have been a laugh in any other situation. If he weren’t bleeding out against her. It was no small task to get him into the back of the van without hurting him further.

“What on earth _happened_ …” She muttered, not really looking for an answer.

“You told me so.” Vax was trying to grin through a wince of pain as they arranged him laid flat next to the other young man that the short woman was still attending to. “I’ll say it so you don’t have to: you told me so.”

“I wish I was wrong.” Her voice came out softer than she meant it to. “I wish you were alright.”

“Yeah, me too.” He took a shaky breath and swallowed. “Lucky I went and met you, huh?”

Keyleth swallowed the “I hope so” she was feeling and squeezed his hand before climbing out the back of the van. If she didn’t focus on action, she was going to just curl up in a ball and scream. She rounded to the driver’s door and hopped up, starting the engine and mentally thanking herself for the foresight to gas up an hour ago. Seeing how things seemed to be going, the short man in the priest’s collar dropped the keys he’d been juggling into the bed of a truck and got into the passenger’s seat.

“Grog!” He shouted out the door at the large man, who as busy hefting an unconscious body on each shoulder out of the lobby. “Come on! We have to get the fuck out of here!”

“Just two more in there!”

The short man—priest? Keyleth didn’t know much about priests, but she was fairly certain they didn’t curse or run away from burning buildings before the authorities showed up—swore under his breath.

“Just leave’m!”

Almost definitely not a priest. Keyleth turned and tried to crane her neck over the row of seats to the back where Vax’s sister and the other woman were tending to the injured men. She couldn’t see them. She’d just have to trust they were alright for the time being. “Grog” was only gone another moment until he was back dumping two more people like ragdolls unceremoniously onto the lawn.

“The hell was that about?”

“Pike’d kill me if I let them folks inside get burned up.”

“Damn fuckin right.”

“Wait-“ the not-priest turned in his seat as Grog clambered into the bench seat and slammed the side door. “Pike is- never mind…”

“Is that everyone?” Keyleth’s voice was several octaves higher than normal, she was sure.

“Yes!” The short woman shouted. “Now get us as far from this place as possible!”

Keyleth set her jaw and wasted no time in pulling out of the long driveway of the motel and back onto the highway, headed east. She began to ease the van up in speed until she could feel the floor under the gas pedal. A stunned sort of silence fell on all of them as the tower of smoke drew smaller in the rearview mirror. The man next to her twisted to stick his head out the window and watch the trees fly by. He turned back forward after a moment, taking a long, slow breath in and out.

“So… not that I’m not grateful to you for saving all of us, but who are you?”

“Keyleth.” She pressed her lips together. “Is someone going to tell me what happened to you all?”

**Author's Note:**

> Percy's backstory with his family is based on the Sodder family fire and missing children. I might have expanded on that, but I'd already had to add so much to fit in Keyleth and Grog, and also to expand on twins backstory with the cult because my parents let me check out Helter Skelter from the library when I was 13 and that's why I'm Like This(tm). Also I'm always going to play favorites with the twins.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Better Times](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27937752) by [EssayOfThoughts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EssayOfThoughts/pseuds/EssayOfThoughts)




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